


His Tiny Dancer

by foxymonstrocity



Category: Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 19:41:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10703787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxymonstrocity/pseuds/foxymonstrocity
Summary: You were a tattoo artist (who loves to dance) in Gotham City, your apartment right above your salon- both across the street from an upcoming club, The Smile and Grin. You had a suspicion, as did everyone else, about who owned it. The news screamed about an upcoming villain, The Joker, roaming the streets ever since he broke out of Arkham Asylum. What were the odds he would bother you, though?





	1. Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> Suicide Squad never happened! This is the beginning of J's reign of terror, kind of how he came to be but Harley isn't really in the picture.  
> let me know below if you like or have any ideas for how it should go!  
> enjoy!
> 
> tumblr: crownmechemicallycrazy
> 
> (requests open!)

His Tiny Dancer

Joker X Reader

Pilot

Riiiing.  
Riiiiiiiiiing  
RIIIIIIIIIIIIING

You wake up to the sound of your phone going off. You barely opened your eyes but you can clearly see that the clock read 3:47am. It was a Saturday too. Normally you only got calls from people for work- but you never worked on weekends! Your work being a tattoo artist. You owned a cute little tattoo parlor. It wasn’t anything extravagant. Just a simple, relatively modern tattoo shop that you decorated yourself. Though it wasn’t anything amazing, you were proud and loved it none the less. Rotten Ink Studio, you called it.  
You grabbed your phone, glaring at whoever was calling you at this ungodly hour. Unknown. Weird..

Well you’re up, might as well answer.

“Yes?” you answer, slightly annoyed.

“Is this (First Name, Last Name)?” a gruff voice asked. 

‘Sure, cut straight to the chase why don’t ya.’ you thought.

“Yes..” you hesitantly answered.

“My boss would like to make an appointment with you,” the mystery man explained, “it’s his first tattoo. He’ll give you the details at 7:00am sharp.”

“W-wait today? It’s the weekend I-I don’t-”

Beeeeeeeeep.

You were only greeted by the sound of a dead line.

‘I don’t work on weekends..’ You thought as you sat up.  
Normally you would people like this to piss off, especially crazy people who mysteriously call you in the middle of the night! However lately you needed the money.  
'Every bit helps’ You thought with a sad sigh and set an alarm for tomorrow- or technically later this morning. You noticed your bleached hair slipping out of your messy bun you had left your hair in. Yesterday after work you bleached your original (h/c) hair almost white so that you could dye it today. It currently doesn’t look like you’ll be able to do that considering your mystery client coming in soon. You perked up at a thought you had. 

Technically.. you did have 3 hours before this person arrived.

You threw the covers aside and hopped out of bed. You didn’t bother to throw on a bra- or change at all for that matter. You didn’t care too much about your pajamas, which was just an ex's t-shirt, so you weren’t worried about getting dye on them. More concern went into what color to chose from this time! You bent down, opening the cupboard beneath your sink and reaching for the dye you had left. Green, orange and blue. You laughed at yourself for even having the color green, everyone knows who practically owns this color. The Joker. You shivered at the thought of that man. The Joker was an upcoming villain in the city of Gotham, they said he was cruel, sadistic and psychotic! And you were lucky enough to have a tattoo parlor right across the street from his new club! At least that's what the rumors said, you'd never even gone in. You drew your eyes from the green hair dye to the window. Your little apartment was right above your tattoo parlor. You could sometimes hear the faded music from his club, you thought as you looked at the entrance to it. However- more often than not- you swore you heard gunshots, always followed by crazed laughter. 'Anyways..’ you thought with a smile as you picked up the blue dye, 'let’s try something new’

About a good two hours passed and now you were in the shower. The warm water rinsing away the excess blue dye that slipped down your body. You stepped out of the shower and dried your body off with a fluffy black towel. It wasn’t your first rodeo dying hair, you knew better then to use a light colored towel. 

“I need a gangsta~” You sang as you gracefully danced around your room, picking out articles of clothing for today’s outfit. You weren’t a great singer but you rather liked to- that is, when no one was around to make fun of your voice. However, you were quite a skilled dancer. Ballet was your personal favorite but you could perform any style if you really wanted to. That was actually the main reason you didn’t work on weekends! You would walk (because you didn’t have a car) down to the neighborhood dance studio and practice. Sometimes your instructor would ask you to stay and help with the little children’s class- and of course you would say yes. The sound of your alarm blared through your little apartment, interrupting your singing and thoughts. 

7:00. 

SHIT.

Slamming your hand down on the alarm to shut it up, you quickly tossed away the towel that held up your newly colored hair. You were so busy in your own thoughts you didn’t realize you already started to get dressed. Black lacy underwear with a cute little bow on the front and a black matching bra- also with a little bow. It made you giggle for some reason. You quickly threw on a pair of blue jeans and a green flannel. You grabbed a black bandanna and darted down the stairs while you struggled to pull your blue hair up into a messy ponytail. You sprinted around the parlor, turning on all the lights and opening the curtains. You gracefully- yet barely- avoided chairs, stools and other supplies that you might trip over. You grabbed the key to the front door as you ran by where they were hidden. Normally, you had a good routine that didn’t involve rushing. Guess you're gonna have to skip that routine today, you thought as you unlocked the front door. You relaxed as you set the keys down on the counter. You turned on the “open” sign that would glow outside the door and poked your head out to check that said sign was working. As you did, you saw the street was empty and it's normally full of people staggering home from the night before! Or at the very least, a few people headed to the cafe on the corner. Your eyes widened when you realized why no one was on the street.

It was him. 

You didn’t want to panic so you slowly retreated back into your tattoo shop. 

The Prince of Crime. 

The King of Gotham.

The Joker. 

Why was he out in broad daylight?! Was he not worried about the rats that would turn him in if they spotted him? You looked back to a few second ago when you saw him strutting down the streets that he owned. He actually looked fairly normal if it weren’t for the green hair and pale face. Oh, and of course the 5 goons walking behind him.

'Okay,’ You thought to yourself with a big sigh anxiety coursing threw your veins, 'Just act casual. What’re the odds he’d be coming here anyways?’

“Helloooo, gorgeous” A dark voice purred.

“THESE ODDS!” You jumped and screamed as you fell over, behind the counter. 

Laughter rang through the parlor, shaking the room. His laugh wasn't the loudest but it's the one that rang in your ears and sent a shiver down your spine. So this would be your first encounter with the Joker, you pondered, you always thought it would start with a gun to your face. No gun in sight- or at least not on him. He was just standing there smiling down at you. 

“I’m your 7 o,clock, Ms. (Last name)” He purred again.

“(N-Name) will do just fine” You winced as you sat up on the floor. The man offered you his hand, which you took, and he helped you to your feet. You wanted to take your hand back at the same time you didn’t! You just continued to stare into his piercing blue eyes. Joker may have noticed this, since he used his free hand to snap his fingers together.  
As he did this, those goons you mentioned earlier spread around the room. One remained at the now closed door. Two went and closed the curtains, standing in front of your window and the last two just stood in the back of your room. All of them holding rifles like they’re guarding the president.

“This’ll be fun..” you murmured out loud

“Indeed it will, (Name)! Now,” Joker strutted over to the chair, taking off his coat and throwing it on a goon who didn’t even flinch, “let’s get to know each other. You can call me Mister J” 

He flashed his signature smile and your heart stopped. 

 

What have you just gotten yourself into?


	2. You're His Favorite?

His Tiny Dancer

Joker X Reader

Chapter 1  
You're His Favorite?

A few tattoos later and Mister J began to look less normal but he remained as attractive as ever. Normal became a blurry word when that man was around, his actions and behavior were shocking the first few times he came into the shop but by now you were almost used to it. It had been 5 months since you fell on your ass in front of J and he enjoyed your company a little too much to his liking. The last time J had let a girl into his world, she left it crashing down upon him. Sure there were a few other women after Harley had vanished but nothing more then one night stands. The criminal hadn't noticed that since he had come to see you, he hadn't had sex or bothered with any attention from the women in his club. In fact, he often found himself thinking of you. It was hard to get your attention because you were so busy, J came in every weekend to get work done- and as soon as he was done with one tattoo, he’d be back the next Saturday to get another!  
It might have been the 2nd month J had come in that you got the goons to put away their guns when you were tattooing their boss. At first they didn't care it made you uncomfortable but they noticed that when you got nervous, your hands started to shake and if you messed up, it would their heads on the line. For all of his tattoos, you had to be very close to him. So close that he got tired of you leaning on your little chair that he made you sit in his lap. You weren’t opposed to it, of course, Mister J hadn’t forced you or tried to do anything you didn’t want. However, this insanely attractive man- who you were carving into with a needle- seemed to be enjoying himself a little too much. You blushed as you listened to him growl and moan when you pressed the sharp tip into his pale skin. Your concentration was shot when he released another moan, you simply stared at the lines you were tracing with wide eyes and red cheeks. J noticed your hand begin to shake and gently put a hand on your hip to catch your attention, "What's going on up there?" He asked. "Honestly?" You asked back in disbelief. He straight up just moaned with you straddling him! "I'd prefer it that way, yes.' J replied, a smirk on his lip but you couldn't either muster a smile which bothered him immensely. "How 'bout a break." He suggested in a way that was a command. You nodded and put down the tattoo gun, moving to get off of J so he could sit comfortably. 

“So, (Name),” Mister J started, “tell me about yourself”

You chuckled, “Mister J, I’ve already told you just about everything! You’ve come in every weekend for your tattoos” 

You focused back on the tattoo you were giving him, it was a skeleton wearing a jester's hat on his chest. Being rather proud of your work, you admired the other tattoos you had done. In two months, you'd completely covered the criminal's back and yet he wanted more. J wanted- needed to be your favorite canvas and if you sat on his lap for the other tattoos he had planned, he'd be here more often than anyone would like. "I hate small talk, knowing.” He stated, "I want to know everything about my favorite little minx." You perked up at that. Favorite? Obviously he hadn't meant other tattoo artist's, you would've seen their marking on his body. Not to mention J seemed very taken with your art, proudly showing it off at any opportunity. Although, whether that's your art or his fantastic body is anyone's guess. 

“Question, Mister J, why do you come in here so often?" Your eyes had to be dragged away from those red stained lips of his. Apparently J didn't want to answer this question because he quickly diverted the conversation. 

“Hold that thought, darling, I have a very important question for you”

“O-oh uh yes?” you smiled, sliding off your chair to get bandages. The last time you tried to trust him to not touch one of his tattoos, he smudged it. You jokingly threatened not to work on him anymore... he didn’t like that joke. 

“Well, you see, I’m having a little shindig at my club tomorrow,” Mister J explained, “I would very much like you to join me” the smile widened.

“Tomorrow? I’m so sorry, J, I can’t” you said with an apologetic smile.

Mister J looked like someone had slapped him across the face. No? NO? No one had every said that to him before! 

“Why not!” He asked curiously yet you heard a slight tone of whining in his voice.

“I have a performance. I’ll be pretty tired afterwards” You blushed as you looked to the side. You were very shy and humble when it came to your passion of dancing, hardly anyone knew. No one would've guessed anyways, what with your tattoos and punk appearance. 

“A performance!” Mister J looked like he was about you explode with excitement. He absolutely adored shows. You put the final bandage on his tattoo and smiled at him, “You’re all set, Mister J” 

He snapped his fingers and one of the goons brought forward a silver briefcase that was handcuffed to his wrist. Mister J opened it and pulled out a wad of $100 bills. You always got nervous when he paid you. He always gave you so much more then the actual price- a “generous tip” he called it. What got you nervous though, was the fact this was stolen money. However, you took the cash with a grateful smile and went to get him change even though he would just tell you to keep it, anyways. You tugged your hair out of its ponytail and your (long/short) hair fell free. You tucked a few blue strands behind your ear. Just as he always did, Mister J declined when you tried to hand him the leftover money. 

“Tell you what, doll, I’ll let you take me to coffee”

“Oh really?” You smirked at him, “How generous of you”

Mister J held his arm out for you to link your with his, that silver smile as big as ever. You giggled and his smile widened. 

“Can I go change? I’d rather not go out wearing ink stained clothes.” you explained with a slight blush. 

“Absolutely” Mister J seemed overly pleased that you asked him permission do to something. 

You flashed one more smile as you skipped up the stairs. You heard Mister J start to talk to his men but you couldn’t hear what he was saying. You didn’t care either, it wasn’t your business. You rather preferred not to get involved with his- ahem- line of work..  
You changed your white shirt that was marked with black ink to an off the shoulder top. It was black, loose and comfortable! The sleeves fit over your hands and made you feel like Morticia from the Adams Family. You giggled to yourself at the thought. Also switching your black shorts to a pair of ripped blue jeans, you decided you looked decent enough to go out. You woke up this Saturday early enough to get ready for Mister J. Put makeup on and everything! You smiled, remembering his reaction, 

“Did you get all dolled up for me?” Mister J asked with a big smile as you opened the door. He looked you up and down. Normally you would have slapped someone for such an action (not that you would have, you would’ve probably been shot on sight) but the way Mister J did it made you feel like you were special. It wasn’t a hungry, lust full look but rather a surprised and somewhat delighted one. 

You pulled yourself from your thoughts as you remembered this perfect man was waiting for you downstairs. You noticed only two of the five body guards were here. You flashed a small smile at Mister J as you walked by him to turn off the 'open’ sign. You grabbed the keys and turned to your friend- could you actually call him a friend? You didn’t have time to decide right now. 

“You didn’t have to get all dressed up for me” Mister J put a hand over his heart with his usual wide smile. He had his purple button up shirt on but left it unbuttoned, showing off his newly bandaged tattoo.

“It’s your first time seeing me outside of work,” You giggled, linking your arm with his, “I thought I should make it a good sight” 

Mister J’s smile seem to falter, as if he couldn't agree with what you'd just said. Without giving it a second thought, you reminded yourself you lived across the street from his club! He's had to have seen you before. You heard the door closed and realized you didn’t lock it, looking back you see one of J’s men closing it and hurrying to follow the two of you. 

'Oh well, I’ll only be a few minutes’ you thought, brushing it away. 

Mister J spoke up as he opened up the door to the cafe that was just at the end of the block, “(Name), I have a confession”  
You stepped into the cafe and noticed it was empty aside from the workers. Those 3 missing body guards were here! The cafe was somewhat dark due to the shutters being closed. The workers didn’t seemed phased by this at all, like this was normal for them.  
J led you to a specific both that you assumed was his. You waited for him to speak again, slightly concerned. Why was your heart beating so fast?

“I have seen you before,” J explained, “I saw you walking into your tattoo parlor and wanted to see you again- I also wanted a tattoo but all the decent one's.. weren't trustworthy. So I had Frost make the appointment to see you. Kill two birds with one stone, y'know?” He chuckled darkly.

You weren’t relieved for some reason. It couldn't possibly have anything to do with the fact this devilishly handsome criminal just referred to you as a bird to kill, right? 

“Can I take your order, Mister J?” A young man had come over to the booth we sat in.  
"The usual," Mister J smiled, not looking at him, "and for you, doll face?”

“Oh, I’ll just have a (fav coffee drink).” You gave a small smile. The man returned your smile and walked away, going to make your drinks immediately. 

“What’s troubling you?” J asked darkly. He didn’t look concerned this time.

“Oh I just have a lot on my mind." You mumbled, hoping your answer would satisfy him. It didn't. 

“(Name)~ I don't have to pry teeth out of you to get an answer, do I?” J growled with a slight smirk on his lips. He slid over to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, making your face blush and your heart beat faster.  


“I’m...” Your heart was beating as fast as it was before- you didn’t want to talk about this now!- brilliantly you diverted the conversation, "Hoping you could come tomorrow? I know it's right before your club bu-" 

“Baby doll, I’d loooove to come!” Mister J’s smile returned. His eyes no longer held innocence and curiosity. You couldn’t put your finger on what it was in those blue eyes but you didn’t want to know. The young man dropped off our drinks at last. “A toast,” Mister J picked up his coffee and held it up. You held yours up and gently clinked your cups together.  
You smiled and sighed inwardly, relaxing at the fact that you’d weaseled your way out of a conversation you probably weren’t ready to have. An hour or so later of fun conversation, you told Mister J you should get home so you could practice before tomorrow. You were actually quite nervous! J agreed, looking to his best man Frost who tapped the watch on his wrist. You suppose he’s also got an arrangement for this evening. You pulled out a few hundred dollar bills that J gave you as a tip earlier. You felt bad that these people had to close shop for just two coffees. You left them on the table, walking after Mister J. Mister J linked his arm with yours again and you giggled. In the middle of your conversation as he walked you home, you stopped dead in your tracks.

The door to your tattoo parlor was wide open. 

You released Jokers arm and ran inside, gasping at the sight in front of you.

Your parlor chairs flipped over, equipment broken and ink bottles dripping onto the floor.  
Your eyes teared up, your lip twitching downward. You fought back sobs, holding yourself for some form of comfort. The sound of footsteps slowly trailing in after you was all you could hear besides your ragged breaths. The footsteps stopped. You turned on your heel and ran straight to whoever it was, though you had an idea who, and you hugged them tight. Mister J’s cologne confirmed that’s who had his arms around you now. You cried into his bare chest, his button up still open from when he put it on. His heartbeat was insanely fast.

You should've locked that door.

Mister J was furious.


End file.
